No Time
by Scarfy
Summary: From his rear view mirror, he saw the police officer step out from behind his car. He saw him sigh and shut the door, rubbing a hand over his eyes before bumbling over to him. [oneshot]


**Title: No Time  
Author: AC (a-bit-of-wit)  
Feedback: THE BEST PART OF WAKING UP IS...feedback:3  
Pairing: N/A...Roger/Mimi?  
Word Count: Way too Long...?  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Angst/Sweetness  
Summary: "**From his rear view mirror, he saw the police officer step out from behind his car. He saw him sigh and shut the door, rubbing a hand over his eyes before bumbling over to him.**"  
Notes: I'M DKSJFD FOR THE 12 O'CLOCK LATE AGAIN. -faints- This was fifteen minutes of work. Feel free for you to point it out as the piece of crap it is.  
Special Thanks:  
Spoilers: ROGER RUNS. :O  
Warnings: Um, maybe some grammar problems. D:  
Disclaimer:**** I don't own RENT. Or enough time to think of something witty to say here.**

Even inside the jacket, everything was cold. His fingers, unprotected, bitterly tried to hold on to the wheel, peeking out- if only barely, from the safety of the fake sheep wool sleeve.

It seemed even colder then it was in New York, but he was sure it could only get warmer from here. His breaths, shallow and half-hearted, came out in weak puffs in front of his face. He was jumpy, he could tell. Times like these, he needed a good cigarette to came his nerves- but he didn't have the money for that, or the time.

He knew if he stopped, he'd be back there before he knew it. Mark's every angry word and Mimi's every hurt whisper invaded his brain in every moment of silence, thus, the radio was pounded into every corner of small car, seeming to pump the dust out of the seats and filling the insides with a second haze.

_He tightened his grip around wheel._

_Mimi's gotten thin, Mimi's running out of time..._

_No time. No time._

Perhaps the steady beat of the music was getting to him, and causing this reckless mood. He didn't even know what the hell they were singing about- and he didn't really care either. Empty Pop Songs about Love and Loss.

The stars don't even know the half of it. They've got all the time in the world. Each beat of the song was like the tick of the clock- symbolized another second he ran, another second without her, without all of them.

_He tightened his grip around the wheel._

_No time. No time._

_No time for questions, No time for doubts. Just time for the road and time to forget._

It wasn't until he heard the sirens he had realized how fast he was going. His foot was so tightly pressed against the peddle that when he pulled over and brought it away, the sudden sensation of the lack of movement made his head reel more.

From his rear view mirror, he saw the police officer step out from behind his car. He saw him sigh and shut the door, rubbing a hand over his eyes before bumbling over to him.

There wasn't even time for string of curses before he came, because he was up to the front window at a speed Roger was sure a 200 pound short guy could perform. He was wrong.

"You realize you're going 80 mph, boy?" Chided the man, with a amused chuckle. "On a 40 mph road?" He tapped the window, and Roger pried one hand off the steering wheel to turn the window down. After Six seconds of the light whr of the window, the officer appeared.

"Um- Sorry sir." Roger spat, raising both eyebrows as if to get a better look at him.

_He tightened his grip on the wheel._

_No time_. _No time._

_No time for police men who don't understand. No time for lectures._

"Where you headed?" He spat good-naturedly, leaning an elbow on the side of the car.

Roger pulled his gaze from his feet to the other man. "Santa Fe." He said simply, unable to hold the bitterness in his voice. He saw the officer make a somewhat interested face, and continued. "From New York City."

"New York?" The man echoed, chuckling. "Hell, New York's heaven in comparison. You're young, why the hell do you want to go to retired bastard central, ah?" He snorted. "Santa Fe."

_He tightened his grip on the wheel._

_No time. No time._

_No time for fat men who wish they were young. No time for talks with strangers._

"It's not that easy." He replied evenly, then stared back at steering wheel again, glad he controlled his anger better this time. "I'm trying to...avoid someone." He was surprised he said that, but when he looked up the policeman had the same expression on his face.

"Hell, nothing's easy." He was opening the notebook, pulling a pen from his back pocket and scribbling on the sheet. "Whatever you're running away from there, you're not going to escape it in Santa Fe. It took me a long time to realize that problems follow ya everywhere." He pulled the ticket away. "Too Long." He shoved it threw the gap between them, but Roger only stared.

_He tightened his grip on the wheel._

_No time. No time._

_No time to learn that lesson. No time to run away. No time to rekindle lost love after it's been lost. No time for me. No time for Mimi._

_No time for us._

Blankly, Roger slowly relaxed his hands on the steering wheel, slowly taking the ticket from him. For this first time in the last few days, he smiled slowly.

_Maybe just enough time- Maybe just enough time to get back to New York._


End file.
